Magic mirror on the wall, who is the greatest one of all?
by Szept
Summary: Perfection, as Draven learned, is hard to come by.


One can not argue that practice matches are those where real magic happens. These are the ones that the worst of the worst summoners happen to be spending their time in their quest for greatness.

Yet one has to remember they absolutely lack necessary dedication and basic intelligence for their goal to become reality.

Nonetheless, so called normals, really are a worthwhile place to spend one's time. Different kind of battle ensues from different set of rules, opponent does not know which champions one chooses to use. Champions do not really participate in those matches, only their shadows, created from power of nexuses. Thus, there are no restrictions on subject of champions fighting against themselves.

Practice matches have been used for various differing intents, from studying champions powers and abilities, through observing summoners pure an unrestricted stupidity and couple other behavioral patterns. To studying champions themselves (although mostly unintentionally).

Today is such day, in which so called mirror appeared on the Fields of Justice. Middle lane to be exact. And while many will point out that Draven does not fare so well against most any mage on middle lane, they have to remember, summoners of this level are usually dense and stubborn, using slogans such as mid or feed. Just to end up feeding anyway. Summoner leading our Draven is of course one of them. By stretch of luck, exact same situation took place on opposing teams side.

Early in match, one of them took his stand in middle of distance between both teams' towers, his confident gaze scanning horizon, completely unfazed by possibility of a gank. It is hard to say if it was decision taken by summoner or Draven himself.

Suddenly his eyes widened. For in the distance, he saw image of perfection.

The figure of the man before him was like that of a statue, carved from finest stone by finest master. Tall and muscular, one could not simply look and not stare in awe at sheer might radiating from finely tanned individual standing before Draven. It was obvious for the most glorious executioner of all time, that fate itself must have blessed his opponent with looks of a god, there simply is no other explanation in his mind, for how can a man achieve such utter excellence?

Excellence not only granted by gods themselves. From one look, the first he ever given his opponent. He could already say that he was also in possession of a brilliant mind, such was the way in which he carried himself. It is no common occurrence that Draven sees a person whose choosing of garments can rival with his own.

That alone of course was not enough to grant the man Draven's liking. But the way he spiked his fine, dark hair, the perfect smile, stylish tattoos. And the weapons of choice! Axes the man carried were on pair with his own. Something no other weapon has ever done before.

Yet, for all his obvious, unrestrained splendor, what instantly granted him Dravens respect was something else. Something glorious. Something perfect. Something only those of great heart and mind were capable of ever achieving.

The glorious mustache.

The definition of greatness. The beauty incarnate. Epitome of style. Masculinity itself. Show of its owner nigh unreachable intellect.

The figure approached Draven and made a pose. Flexing his amazing muscles, all the while grinning even more.

Draven watched in astonishment. That is until it occurred to him that he is not making brilliant first impression himself. How could he forget! Executioner returned the grin and the favor, striking a pose himself.

Neither of them noticed that minions have already been battling for a while now. Their eyes fixed on the other. Flashing each other dashing smiles. In each position their bodies took, any man, spirit or in fact a god, would see pure beauty simply oozing off them in waves, basking nearest area in light unseen by mortal eyes, visible only to those that are worthy. Fitting, that each figure could see it in the other.

Any creature alive that would happen to see the amount of unrestrained awesomeness that poured off them should recognize it as the life changing event, glory Draven possesses should be an inspiration to any and all men, for them to strive towards glorious future. One could almost imagine that were one of them to move, earth would shatter by the weight of awesome each step carried.

Alas, it was not to be.

Summoners are by nature not spiritually sensitive beings. Caring only for their petty matches and lane creep. As such, situation was quickly forcefully resolved and both parties were forced to partake in the insignificant game.

But there are those who remember, and will never forget those fleeting moments for which life is worth living for.


End file.
